She looks like Tippi Hedren. But without the birds.
So now I have lost half my audience – or at least those of you who are under 40.
She is tall, slim and elegant, with her blond hair swept up artfully on top of her head. As she walks towards us there is something almost regal about her. She really is quite lovely. But then her eyes fall on Gordon and the poise disappears
She acts like Marilyn Monroe. But without the boobs
She flirts, she laughs, she cracks jokes. She squats down on her heels so that her face is level with Gordon’s and after a long pause, she flutters her eyelashes and asks
“what would you like before take off?”
The innuendo is delivered with a wicked grin
We haven’t seen a stewardess that looks this good since the 60’s
We are on a flight from Dallas to Miami. The flight is just two hours and twenty minutes long and yet American Airlines has provided us with a smart new plane, lie flat beds and Tippi. They are really going all out. The beds seem particularly unnecessary considering the length of the flight, unless………….. well Tippi Hedren and the Mile High Club come to mind.
“I’ll just have water” Gordon replies
Tippi looks crushed. “And I had you down for a champagne kind of guy” she says, scoring a goal from the 50 yard line.
“I’ll get to that a little later ” Gordon replies
“Oh boy!” says Tippi, her eyes full of promise “we have some of the good stuff on board, and I will save it for you”
She rises easily from the squatting position and moves on without even a glance in my direction.
The story of my life.
We have two seats in the middle of the plane. Gordon gets Tippi Hedren looking after him.
I get the offspring of Mama Cass sired by Karl Malden (there goes a bunch more readers). She would rather be anywhere other than on this plane. And it is not long before I wish that for her too. She is not happy, mainly because her thighs are badly bruised from continually hitting the arm rests as she attempts to move down the aisle.
Her eyes fall on me. They are devoid of any emotion. It is years since a wisecrack passed her lips and even longer since she smiled. She makes no effort to squat down so that her face is level with mine. She couldn’t do that if she wanted to, and she certainly doesn’t want to. I am grateful for small mercies.
She manages one word
“Drink?”
and moves on as I attempt to answer her.
We see no more of them until after take off. Tippi emerges from behind a curtain, completely transformed. She has let her hair down, literally, and appears ready to do the same figuratively. Her long blond hair tumbles down over her shoulders, along with her inhibitions. The regal poise has been replaced by something more flirtatious. She is carrying a large tumbler filled to the top with champagne. We are in row six. Five rows of heads look up expectantly and then turn and watch her go by. She goes directly to Gordon.
“Just to keep you going” she purrs wickedly.
A few minutes later Mama Karl emerges from behind the curtain. Sadly there is no sign of any transformation. She makes no attempt to bypass the other 5 rows and it is a good 15 minutes before I get a chance to ask for champagne. By this time Gordon is on his second tumbler, and he and Tippi have mated for life.
Tippi spends most of the flight flirting and chatting with Gordon. She still hasn’t glanced my way. Nor has Mama Karl
The descent to Miami is well on its way when the flight attendants are asked to take their seats. We don’t see Tippi again until we disembark. She is waiting for us at the exit, which isn’t strictly true. It is Gordon she is waiting for. Another transformation has taken place. Her lips are now covered in a thick layer of vivid red lipstick. She purses her lips and using both hands blows a stream of kisses at Gordon. Gordon pretends to reel back under the onslaught. They both start laughing.
She gives me a brief nod of recognition.
Mama Karl does not make an appearance, does not wear lipstick and has never blown a kiss in all her fifty plus years
The story of my life.
Good start! (I’ve never enjoyed a flight so much.) Happy sailing🛳 jp
I always said he was wasted on you. Joking.
Baz, I can always rely on you to cut to the chase!
Oh, that Gordon. The wonderful thing is he going home with you, hahaha. Where are you off to this time? We miss you boys.
Pat, just you wait and see…………..
Oh, drat, Andrew, I don’t wait well. I know, I know, all good things come to he/her who waits. Poppycock.
If she looks like Tippi Hedron, don’t know why you are jealous, Andy — Tippi Hedren is 88 years old. M.
I want to be a Tippi when I grow up.
Dear Lynda…….. you will never grow upxx
I can assure you that references to St Tippi and Karl Malden are just one of the many reasons why we over-40s keep coming back for more (though mainly of course, in the hope of seeing photos of Gordon sipping daiquiris at sundown or looking very slightly awkward while haggling in Indian bazaars)
RObin, you are just as bad as Tippi! Its all about Gordon and not a peep about MOI!
But you know that I really read your blog for your wit, your observations and your urbane prose (though I DO love the photos of Gordon, too!) xx
And we’re off! Love, love, love it x
Thanks Max